


under dying stars

by fuscience



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuscience/pseuds/fuscience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times Laura and Carmilla could have slept together and one time they absolutely did not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it's a start

**Author's Note:**

> honestly this is basically just porn interjected into canon scenarios and it’s not even particularly plausible or well done, but it was a hoot to write. there's not complete accuracy because i was mostly pulling for memory as to what happened in the series, but, like i said, this is kind of just a learning experience for me so lmk if you see any errors spelling, grammatically, etc. 
> 
> split into six parts because it got to be over 11,000 words and i know that can be overwhelming to read in one sitting (especially on mobile - i've done it and survived but just barely)

Laura Hollis has no idea the effect she has on people - that is very clear. The dudebros are gone, sans a few blood drops, and Carmilla’s roommate is currently walking out of the shower, feeling much cleaner after washing off the smell of panicked crowds and fish. She goes to sit at the computer watching the viewer count continue to  rise, smiling to herself and eating a cookie, and Carmilla can’t help but watch her in return, Laura says things and they stick - it’s something she’s noticed in the weeks since they’d began sharing a living space and it’s an absolutely revolting quality for her to have considering Carmilla has to live with it, live with her.

"I don't." Carmilla says it slowly before pushing her head deeper in the book, hoping it might swallow her.

"What?" Laura doesn't even turn around as she speaks, but she can tell her face scrunches up in confusion by the wrinkles that form on the edges of her jaw, probably at her roommate voluntarily entering conversation.

Carmilla's jaw clenches and her teeth grind "Earlier. I don't deserve better. Most people don't." Laura swivels to stare down the girl, but Carmilla's not looking back, instead clenching a white-knuckled grip on the edges of her book and it shakes a little, tremors running through her hands. Carmilla is thinking of giggling girls, and alcohol and flowing dresses and waltzing and locked doors that give her plausible deniability to the roles she’s played and how goddamned lonely three hundred years can be when you are a beast existing under the thumb of a monster. She then makes the mistake of looking up from the words of Kierkegaard to Laura Hollis' eyes and sees something close to a future. Her stomach turns violently. “Your roommate probably just bounced and doesn’t even give a shit you’re worried.”

There’s something akin to pity swimming there in her human’s eyes, below the surface level anger, and Carmilla huffs, annoyed, and turns on her side, book falling with her. Laura continues to watch her roommate collapse into herself, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that maybe Carmilla's fatalistic and outright rude personality is a result of something she's not privy to understanding. Still, that’s no excuse for being an asshole. ( _Laura can be a bit of an asshole too, that’s how she knows this_.)

“That - That can’t be true.” She rolls her chair forward and tentatively reaches out to pat the other girls hunched shoulder, but Carmilla flinches and Laura withdraws instantly, hands folding together in her lap.

Laura is a child who hopes and wants and believes and Carmilla feels eighteen again in her presence, unsure with fluttering wings taking flight in her stomach. She crosses an arm around the pale expanse of skin along her abdomen, as if that might quell the warm heat that spreads while Laura’s stare burns into the back of her head. She knows this feeling and it is as uncomfortable as it was the first time - trembling and unbidden as it crawls it's way into the refuse of her heart. The blank face of the wall is a better view than what lies behind her.

“I don’t believe that. I think most people are inherently good, that sometimes they make bad decisions.” Carmilla finally turns away from the wall to look at her, abandoning the book to a corner. “but no one deserves to just disappear without anyone caring. Someone has to care.”

“And you think that person has to be you?”

Laura ignores the bitter sting, the underlying lack of faith in her, because they are not friends and Carmilla does not know her and she does not know Carmilla. They don’t owe each other anything - certainly not confidence. Instead, she steels herself and looks her roommate dead in the eye with a surety far beyond what she actually carries.  “If you disappeared I would be doing the same thing.”

“Thanks for the sentiment, cupcake.” A ghost of a smile flits across her face and Carmilla’s so unbearably _lonely_. “but no one’s worth risking your life for.”

“That’s not true, either.” Lauras’ shaking her head again, furiously. “it’s not.”

“Whatever you want to think, sweetheart.”

“I think it sounds like  you risked yourself for someone and it didn’t pay off and now you don’t see the point in doing a repeat performance. Well, _I_  do and it’s not silly sentiment - I’m going to figure this out and- and even if I don’t - ”

She watches the features on Carmilla’s face twist into unbridled rage as she stands and stalks over to the girl, grabbing Laura by her shoulders and dragging her into a standing position, shaking her finger at her furiously, "You think this is a game?! A little school project that you can prod and pick at like a scab and then pack up in a neat package at the end of the semester to turn in and forget about? You think you can save these girls? These girls are everywhere and forever and you can't save any of them, certainly not the ones at good old Silas U." The grip on her wrist is heavy, but not hard and Laura's honestly surprised Carmilla hadn’t used more force - she seems like the violent type, but aside from the shock there's a rising tide in her of anger and embarassment, not unlike when Carmilla had called her a child a mere hour ago. This feels like whiplash, this circling Carmilla and her do around morals and responsibilities and the occasional argument on hygiene and passive-aggresive chore wheels and study buddies and it all seems to come back to something Carmilla won't explain and Laura's 19-years old and curious and stubborn, not a mind reader. It’s expansively frustrating to have information be withheld from her.

“What? I don’t - look, I am _not_ giving up.”

“Of course you aren’t that would take some semblance of self-preservation.” Carmilla’s finger pokes her in the chest accusingly and Laura bats it away.

“Just because you’re apathetic about everything outside of your own misanthropic bubble of doom and gloom doesn’t mean the rest of the world has to be!”

Carmilla takes a step forwards and Laura, sheerly on principle, crosses her arms and refuses to take a step back so that they simply stand there chest to chest, heaving in righteous anger at each other.

“No. You’re going to get yourself killed and no one. Is going. To care.”

Carmilla’s free hand clenches at her side, as she stills, determined not to move first despite the overwhelming desire to grab the other girl and shake her. Or kiss her. Or maybe just run away. _(Carmilla has second-guessed herself a lot in the weeks since she moved into room 307 and she hates it, loathes it, despises it, is utterly disgusted by the sentiment of doubt. She’s pretty sure Laura’s a special kind of punishment Mother has designed just for her_.) Laura stares heatedly at her, eyes flickering to Carmilla’s lips before she makes the decision for both of them by surging forward stupidly, knocking their lips together, but then also their teeth and foreheads and they both wrench back clutching their injured parts. Carmilla laughs suddenly before looking up, startled at the sound, and Laura’s standing there, watching her, like she’s seeing her for the first time and it’s absolutely lovely.

So, Carmilla leans in again, cupping her face, and kisses her, whispering “ _Let me show you how it’s done, sweetheart_.” It's achingly slow this time; she coaxes Laura’s lips against hers, moving them towards something bigger, because kissing is easier than talking and Laura is annoying and human and a pain the ass, but she’s unbelievably warm. Laura knows this is a bad idea considering she was just doing the happy dance for another girl minutes ago, but Carmilla is hot and Carmilla had laughed and Carmilla had this tendency to look at Laura like she was amazing and stupid and wonderful, like she was earth-shattering, in a way that made Laura stop.  Her hands are already unbuttoning Carmilla’s sheer top, pushing it off her shoulders until it drops to the floor, and Laura sees no reason to back out now, not with the expanse of smooth, pale skin laying out before her like a blank canvas waiting for paint. There’s a click and Carmilla has undone the latch on her bra, letting it fall to the floor and baring her breasts, before seeing how deep she can bury her hand’s in Laura’s hair, how deep she can bury herself in another kiss. It’s mostly empty and a little bit hollow, but if Carmilla could just… Laura slides the zipper on the side of Carmilla’s pants down just as Carmilla’s naked breasts press up against her chest, working her hand into the space between the leather and pale, pale stomach, fingers passing through a patch of hair until she can find the folds of Carmilla’s sex and her roommate is already _so fucking wet_. A strike of utter glee runs up Laura’s spine when Carmilla goes a little weak-kneed, moaning in her ear at a two fingered stroke across the slippery expanse of skin, and, yeah, she kind of enjoys being in control - it’s basically the first time she’s had any since Carmilla moved in. The other girl clings to her, flexing her fingers into her hair, and letting her head fall to Laura’s shoulder whimpering as she touches her and Laura’s, admittedly, on a little bit of a power high at the moment.

Carmilla hasn’t been touched in nearly 150 years. “Stop. stop. _stop_.” It’s a breathy cry, soaked in tears unshed and Laura is broken from her grinning revery, She pulls away immediately, hands coming up to the other girl’s bare shoulders and holding her as she shudders.

“I’m so sorry. Oh my god, Carmilla. I should have asked, I didn’t get your consent, I shouldn’t - “ Carmilla leans forward and kisses her because she doesn’t want to hear the sputtered apologies of a girl who has no idea what’s happening, no idea how her fingers turned back the clock centuries to another girl, long dead and buried, awakening things she had thought died buried under rot and iron.

“Nevermind. Don’t worry about - “ The words choke off as she’s looping her arms around the smaller girl’s waist, pulling her forward, and spreading her legs with her knee, grinding it into Laura’s center hard enough to make the smaller girl let out a little gasp, but not enough to distract her. “Just - “ And she stops, focusing on the feel of Laura moving against her.

“Are you okay?” Carmilla ignores the question, choosing instead to kneel down between Laura’s knees, but she can’t resist the urge to glance up, mistakenly catching the other girl’s gaze. She freezes. Laura’s got her hands buried in Carmilla’s dark, messy hair and looks at her with kindness and not a little bit of confusion and the feeling of being young and alive sweeps over her again. She’s so _fucking lonely_ and even though Laura undoubtedly dislikes her, Carmilla is starved for good things and can’t help but want it - _want her_. It’s a feeling she fights with every year she spent choking on dirt and nightmares.

“I’m fine.” She pulls down Laura’s sweatpants and underwear in one go and neither miss how rough and low her voice sounds, but Carmilla’s tongue makes one wide sweep across her labia before finding her clit and sucking and the moment is lost. Carmilla buries her head between Laura’s thighs, hands moving to grab her ass and pull her closer so she can bury herself further - burying herself in Laura is quickly becoming a good activity - a safe activity. She sucks and licks with all the skill of someone who has lived centuries and she pauses because Laura has no idea what monster is currently latched on to her like a leech ( _the irony is not lost to Carmilla on this particular blood-sucking simile_ ), but then hands on her head are pushing her, encouraging her to continue, and Laura’s panting and moaning and Carmilla is not so cruel as to stop. It’s over quick, dirty and messy as Laura comes apart under her tongue and Carmilla sees herself in the mirror hanging in the open dresser - the glistening wetness around her lips, disheveled hair, naked unblemished skin, and the black, black eyes of a creature feeding. There are moments Carmilla finds her reflection and doesn't hate herself - this is not one of them. She unravels her arms from Laura’s waist, willing the red imprints of her fingers to fade, and licks her lips clean of her.

Laura deserves more than what she is giving her, annoying human existence she is, but the monster who feeds on the lives of humans and devours will do so until her soul can stand no more ( _this point is a long way off, Carmilla believes, because after everything, she’s learned her endurance for the depraved and immoral is nearly infinite_ ).

Carmilla stands up and coaxes Laura to lift her arms so she can take off her sweater shirt and now she’s completely naked, even though Carmilla still has pants on.  Laura’s still a little blissed out, but she doesn’t miss the way Carmilla takes a finger and traces it down her side, or how she returns to holding Laura’s waist, pressing her thumbs into the bones of her hip treating her like she’s delicate. Fleetingly, Laura thinks that if this is how Carmilla loves she can understand the rotation of girls that come through their doors. Their lips come together once, twice, Laura slipping her tongue past Carmilla’s lips to taste her and Laura could kiss Carmilla for hours - you know, if she wasn’t such a raging jerkface but, she doesn’t argue as the other girl pulls her forwards onto the bed until she’s sprawling atop her.

“You should watch my videos.” Laura murmurs into her lips and she can feel Carmilla’s smirk.

“No way cupcake. I do _not_ need to know what stupidly daring undertakings you’re planning in the near future.” Laura moves up and back to sit on Carmilla’s  hips, lips pursed and eyebrows crinkled.

“It’s not stupid.” Carmilla rolls her eyes, almost to the back of her head because _god, they’re right back where they started_ , and Laura hates that reaction, petulantly continuing, “If you do that too often you’re eyes’ll get stuck like that.”

Carmilla gives her a nonplussed look, unhappy with the conversation, and settles for canting her hips upward, unsettling the other girl enough so that she tips forward and Carmilla can roll over and kiss her again while they settle into the small twin bed.

It doesn’t really change anything between them, Carmilla’s not suddenly going to become more personable or stop being a general pain and Laura’s okay with that. This isn’t a forever thing ( _let’s be real, this is a one time thing_ , Laura thinks to herself, _total one time thing_ ), and, besides, Carmilla’s fingers are tracing patterns on the small of her back and her eyes are slipping closed  and she’s warm and sleepy and in this moment there’s no missing girls or annoying roommates or blaring alarms and everything’s okay.

_Laura tastes nice_ , Carmilla thinks..

**  
  
**


	2. all tied up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> roughly around episode 19 i think?

She’s tied to a fucking chair. A _fucking_ chair.  Carmilla still can’t get over how she ended up in this position. It’s been nearly a hundred and fifty years since she’s been _fucked_ _over_ by someone she’s _fucked_. Annoyed doesn’t even begin to describe her mood.

"I thought you wanted to eat me!" Laura tries to defend herself, although she’s not sure why. She’s a mess. Carmilla always does this, leaves her so flustered and _goddamn it_ \-  it's not like Laura's asking for much, all she wants is an ounce of truth, just give her an inch of cooperation and she would run with it, and this whole tying Carmilla  up because she might be murdering people would be a hella lot simpler. But Carmilla won't. Because she's stupid and obstinate and a horrible roommate.

"Of course I wanted to eat you." _The sky is blue. Blood is red. my mother is a raging psychopath_.  Of course, Carmilla did. It’s been weeks since their encounter and there are still some mornings Carmilla goes to bed and tastes Laura on the back of her tongue or she’ll wake to the imaginary sounds of Laura unraveling beneath her tongue.

"I knew it!" Laura hisses out triumphantly..

"Eat. you. out, you insufferable canapé!" Laura freezes in her chair, burning embarrassment crawling up her neck at the implication behind Carmilla's tone. She hadn’t quite forgotten how it felt to have the other girl between her legs, and, thinking on it now, it’s a little bit of a rush to think of a preternaturally strong creature on her knees for her. The vampire is currently fidgeting under her restraints as they itch and pull and rub red against her pale skin only for it to heal instantly and burn all over again ( _Thank you holy water and vampiric constitution - healing can be such a bitch_ ), enjoying how she can hear the blood rush to Laura’s face, warming her cheeks.

"Oh. Oh." There's a beat of silence. "Canapé? Is that going to be a new thing or...?"

“Seriously.” Carmilla groans heavily, chin falling to her chest in something close to embarrassment. "Could you just stake me now, I feel like that might be less mortifying than this conversation."

Laura's fingers twitch before reaching out to find Carmilla's, hanging loosely behind the chair, and they curl together into some awkward hand-holding gesture, made ever the more difficult by the ropes still wrapped around her wrists. It’s meant to be comforting and Carmilla resists the urge to squeeze back or something equally gag worthy - she feels so undisputedly human around this tiny slip of a girl and it really, _really_ sucks. To feel helpless, powerless, to be human is to have no control and before Laura there were only two other beings who could elicit this reaction - one of them is dead and the other killed her.

“ummm…”

Laura moves closer, moving her chair so that they press knee to knee, so that if Carmilla tipped her head just right they would probably bump foreheads, maybe, if she’s lucky, brush lips. She can feel the very, very human warmth of the girl before her and Carmilla wants it again, like a drug, and Laura’s gaze burns a hole in her skull, crawling inside, burrowing and clawing, like Laura tends to do. Sometimes she feels like an open sore when Laura looks at her, infected and leaking, exposed like a nerve and she hates it. Hates her. Except, of course, for the parts of her that completely and utterly don't (Those parts are hidden underneath _cupcake_ and _sweetheart_ and _creampuff_. Names allow familiarity that she hasn't truly had in centuries).Carmilla lifts her head and she was right. Laura's analyzing her, looking and looking, hoping to find something that Carmilla is nearly positive is not there at all. Not anymore ( _humanity her heart whispers, Laura sees her humanity and her monstrosity and Carmilla burns at the the thought because both aspects reminds her of the girls she's delivered to death, of the aching, choking feeling of decay and iron for years and years and years and the panic and fear and every other fragile part of her that threatens her very existence. No one can survive on death alone - not even a vampire_.) Laura disconnects her hands and presses them to Carmilla’s cheeks, firmly drawing her head up and waking the vampire from her thoughts.

"So, you like me?" She pauses in thought, hands raised, pressing fingers against the angles of Carmilla's cheekbones. Laura’s not the most self-aware person, a little too involved in her own cleverness, but she’s not blind either and knows that her feelings for Carmilla can no longer be defined by rage or frustration or simple attraction - it’s been changing for weeks and when she invited her to that party and Carmilla said yes, maybe her heart skipped a little bit, and when she walked into that room, maybe her mouth dried out a little at the sight of her in that corset. Maybe.

“The rules of courting in this generation are convoluted, a constant source of confusion that I have no need for, nor do I wish to particularly entangle myself with.” Laura smiles, tipping her head so that their foreheads do meet, ignoring Carmilla’s grumbling. “Like is such an ambiguous word. Most of the time I find you disturbingly troublesome.”

Sometimes, Carmilla will say things and Laura will wonder how she didn’t catch on that her roommate is in fact hundreds of years old despite her occasional childish outbursts. Laura imagines her in poodle skirts and restricting bodices, mohawks and ripped jeans, peace signs and tie dye, - she would pay money for a picture of 1990’s grunge Carmilla, and it’s all so utterly charming to imagine this girl living through centuries ( _imagining her as a caricature of costumes is easier than imagining darkness for 80 years_ ). After a moment's hesitation, Laura stands and crawls into her lap, knees bracing themselves precariously on either side of Carmilla's thighs and she smiles a little in awe at the grumpy girl beneath her because _how did she misread this so badly?_

"The charm. You wanted to protect me." It's not a question and there’s a teasing tone to it that Carmilla finds deprecating so she doesn't answer, just looks up and up at the girl on her lap who has never seemed quite so large. Honey brown strands of hair fall over them like a curtain and Laura's body is unwelcomingly hot against her. A lump gets suddenly lodged in Carmilla's throat at her proximity. Previous plans aside, Laura Hollis has some disturbing qualities that she did not see coming - and, newsflash for her, confidence is a turn-on (thank god for women’s lib). Carmilla looks up at her, clenching her thighs together, attempting to smooth her face away from embarrassingly hot and bothered and more towards  'evil, unimpressed creature of the night'. Laura hums in thought, letting her fingers continue to trace the contour of Carmilla’s face, down to her collarbones and back up - just touching, before she finally swallows her own nerves and presses her lips clumsily to Carmilla's. It’s a little better than their first time - at least nothing is throbbing in pain. Her hands cup the vampire's face and it's so sweet and innocent, that they can almost forget Carmilla's tied to a chair or that she ate Laura out just a few weeks ago, standing in the middle of this room. Carmilla leans into the kiss, lips unmoving and arms flexing, relishing in Laura's affectionate attempts to draw a reaction from her by nipping at her.

" _Laura._ " The breathy admission of her name draws Laura back from the kiss to find Carmilla with her eyes closed, entire body leaning forward. It's endearingly desperate and she leans in again to kiss the want off her roommate's face. Carmilla’s arms flex again and there’s an overwhelming need to touch Laura, to be unrestrained and run her hands over bare skin, count ribs against fingertips, hitch legs over shoulders and it’s damn frustrating to not be able to move. Laura must feel the energy shift because she’s suddenly reaching behind and grabbing the knots, trying to untie the rope while also attempting to keep her lips on Carmilla's and they both let out a little huff of frustration when she's forced to pull away because, yeah, that first strategy wasn’t working.

"Sorry. Sorry. Danny tied the ropes and she - " Laura’s mouth is right near her ear and Carmilla shivers at the warm air.

"Creampuff, can we not have a discussion about the ginger giant's predilection for tying knots while you're straddling me?" She tries to hide the bitter edge to her voice, but it's palpable and Carmilla can only hope Laura is kind enough to ignore it.

Laura laughs while wiggling her finger through the last tie, giving a triumphant cry when the ropes begin to fall away. There's a high to the room, like they’ve been waiting to do this since the first time it happened (maybe they have. _maybe_ ) and now, they are both struggling to slow down - their lips never quite leaving each other, coming together over and over. Carmilla makes quick work of her own shirt, buttons separating quickly, and she slips her hands underneath Laura’s dress, pulling the neckline down to palm both of Laura's breasts and rub her thumbs over the peaking nipples. Laura moans at the feeling, back arching into it, and Carmilla revels in the sound before reluctantly separating again to  lean down to undo the rope around her legs, and Laura sends tremors down her spine, laying distracting, open-mouthed kisses along the back of her neck, any bare skin she can reach. Her hand snakes below the back waistband of Carmilla's leather pants  (Laura makes a silent vow to thank every religious figure in existence for the invention of these pants) and Carmilla is free. The first thing she does is grab Laura around the waist and effortlessly pick her up so that Laura’s world tilts on it’s axis and she is staring up at Carmilla breathlessly, head resting on the yellow pillow ( _on Carmilla's bed. Goddammit, they are going to talk about that_.) and they freeze in position giving them a moment to stare at each other, reflect on what is going to happen - again - before. Laura leans up on her elbows, kissing the lobe of Carmilla’s ear and tracing the edge with her mouth. closer. closer. _closer_. until they kiss again. Carmilla shudders and thanks whatever or whoever deemed this world good enough for Laura Hollis.

"This doesn't - I mean - ." Laura whispers it apologetically. Carmilla's still a vampire. She still is involved somehow in the disappearances. She still hasn’t explained anything. She still lied to her. “I have to tie you back up - after.”

"I know  - just- " Carmilla knows how this will go and she edges closer anyway, letting her hands dive back down, cupping her breasts, but her face cracks and even hidden in the darkness, Laura know what's there, can feel the wetness. Laura’s the first girl Carmilla’s wanted to kiss this much in centuries and it hurts to think that this is probably it for them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Laura wants to reach down and draw Carmilla back into the safety of her arms, draw her away from whatever’s happening in her head, but the her pants are gone and Carmilla's soft, dark curls are laying over the sides of her leg and there's a tongue circling her clit and fingers teasing her entrance and Carmilla is so fucking distracting when she’s fucking her. Among the unintelligible noises she’s making one must call out because Carmilla raises her head from between Laura's legs to look at her, lips wet. This elicits a small whimper of _oh god_ , before she reflexively slaps her hand over her mouth.

"Is this okay?" Carmilla asks slowly, unsurely. " Do you want to stop?"

“No. Nooooo. No way. Don’t you dare.” This makes Carmilla laugh (which is so pretty Laura can’t get over it because it’s really not fair how beautiful and unused it is) and she begins peppering small kisses around the inside of her thigh.

“Nein. Ochi. Lo. Ne.” Carmilla drags her lips over Laura’s clit. “Non. Nei.”

“Oh. my. god.” Once Carmilla starts muttering in languages Laura can’t even begin to identify she’s done. Her muscles clench and spasm and an intensely powerful orgasm wrecks its way through her body, her spine bending up until she collapses and lies boneless against the mattress.

Carmilla’s head pops out from between her legs and Laura’s already drifting off a little, as she kisses her way back up to Laura’s mouth, placing a soft peck against her lips.

“One of these days I’m going to keep going until you can’t even breathe.” Laura rubs her legs together, heat growing in her again, “Make you come over and over until you see stars.” Carmilla whispers against her ear, moving down to kiss her again and Laura’s breath catches in her chest, remembering Carmilla’s very passionate opinions on the stars.

“Carmilla.” Laura mutters as she leans up to deepen the kiss, “ _Carmilla_.” She can feel the evidence of Carmilla’s arousal leaking against her legs and Laura manages to free a hand and move it down, but it’s quickly stopped. Carmilla jumping back and grabbing Laura’s wrist, wrenching it away from her nether regions.

"Carm - " Laura starts in confusion, but the other girl buries her head into Laura's neck, lips pressed against her stuttering pulse point and Laura lets her hands go limp. Carmilla releases them and Laura unthinkingly moves to intertwine their fingers.

"Don't. Please don’t.”  It’s the please that gets her. Carmilla doesn’t - she doesn’t say that.

“Okay.” Their hands hang in the air, still tangled together, and she reaches up with her free hand to stroke Carmilla’s hair, letting the vampire rest her head on Laura’s chest. “It’s okay.”

Things end abruptly and Laura knows she needs Carmilla to be back in the chair, but, the girl's head is buried tiredly in the space between her collarbones and she's very warm and Laura thinks one night won't matter very much in the scheme of things.

She forgets this is their second.


	3. it's rotten and dirty but we might've consumed it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura makes progress, Carmilla makes progress.

"Well, I'm going to shower because I smell like the bottom of an abattoir." Carmilla grits out, frustrated and completely done with this entire debacle that is her mother and Laura constantly butting heads. She’s afraid and tired and hasn’t felt this way in decades. She’s gotten by on oily words and slippery slopes for over fifty years, never having to confront things head on and Carmilla is scared down to the marrow of her bones - Laura makes her want to fight, Laura gives her nightmares that disguise themselves as dreams, Laura lets her hope and that is the most dangerous thing of all.

"Well, maybe you can manage to scrape some of your hair out of the drain while you're at it." Carmilla nearly winces at the bite in her roommate’s tone, but Laura’s seeing red and doesn’t watch, consumed by anger -  she shouldn’t have to convince Carmilla to stay and save her life, she shouldn’t have to barter her right to live with this - this ( _girl she slept with, girl she lives with, girl she maybe, probably has feelings for and she really, really wants to believe Carmilla would have stayed just for her - but, if she’s being honest with herself, she also really, really doesn’t know this girl at all_ ).

"Maybe I will!"

"Fine! "

"Fine!" Carmilla turns to step away so it's definitely Laura who initiates it - kind of always has been in retrospect, but she's reaching for Carmilla who flinches and turns at the hand around her wrist, startled and suddenly looking the eighteen years her body always appears.

Laura draws her hand back just as quickly and stumbles over an apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean - I won't grab you." Her hands wave unsurely. "I - and oh god I was just going to - kiss you? Maybe? If that’s okay? Ugh, this is stupid." The last part comes out breathless and unsure and Carmilla's eyebrows shoot into her skull, mouth slightly open because _weren't they just fighting ten hot seconds ago?_ _and how can Laura ask that?_ before silently nodding her consent because there’s really nothing else she can do and then Laura's lips are on hers, soft and pressing, and her hands are back on her waist, creeping underneath the unwashed corset and she stinks, she wasn’t lying about that, after fourteen days even the undead develop a stench and fuck, Laura's other hand dips momentarily below the waistband of her pants ( _they immediately come back up because Laura has still not forgotten the heart-broken sound of Carmilla’s voice the first time she had attempted to touch her or the clench of Carmilla’s hand on her wrist the second_ ) and then fingers crawl into the belt loops of her pants, tugging their hips closer together and fuck it, if the smell doesn't bother Laura, Carmilla's not going to be the one to stop this.  The smaller girl walks them backwards until the back of Carmilla's knees hit the bed and she sits, dragging Laura's mouth down with her

"Maybe if you hadn't tied me to a fucking chair for two weeks." Carmilla murmurs against her mouth, "We could have done this again sooner."

Laura pulls away breathless and confused, thumbs resting on the curve of Carmilla's cheekbones "We did do this. I untied you five days ago."

"And then tied me right back - which I didn't appreciate."

To her credit, Laura looks genuinely sorry. Camilla has redressed and crawled back into that chair like an invalid, moaning and complaining the entire like Laura had been asking her to clean the dishes instead of become a willing prisoner, she does it to make Laura feel better and it kind of just makes her feel worse.  "Yeah... I - uh, " Her words are cut short when Carmilla pushes down the material of her sweatpants ( _Laura promises that this will happen someday when she isn’t in grungy pajama pants - she will stun Carmilla in something awesome and the vampire will regret ever considering leaving_ ), taking her underwear with them (and wow, that is a talent, a truly wondrous skill), and quickly curves a finger into her. " _Oh-hh_." Carmilla smiles haughtily up at her, pleased at the noise, and Laura leans forward to kiss the smugness off her pale face, kicking off her pants and crawling on top of the other girl. They don't talk much after that.  Their movements are as frantic as they have always been, but there's more there now, in the curve of their lips as they bump noses and foreheads, missed kisses on cheeks and ear lobes and hands that drag themselves teasingly across stomachs and chests. It's intimate and close and _more_. She missed this, missed Carmilla and easy conversations between kisses and fingers, in an aching kind of way, and, judging by the way Carmilla’s laying enthusiastic kisses on every inch of Laura’s skin, it’s safe to say the vampire missed her too. Fourteen days without touching, fourteen days with awkward conversations and silence - bloody accusations sitting between them for so long.

There's a drag of lips over her neck, right over the bite, and Laura inhales deeply, air freezing in her throat. Sharp points catch on the edges of the open wound before a tongue comes out to soothe it softly, it’s owner looking up at her softly, questioning, and Laura is unbiddeningly reminded of her roommate’s nature - the coy predator-like smile, and swing of hips that have lured dozens to their death, but it's Carmilla. Carmilla who makes her hot chocolate when she's five seconds from screaming in frustration, who gives her creepy little protection charms, and likes being the little spoon and steals her yellow pillow ( _which, yes, is finally on her list of things that Laura finds charming_ ) and has nightmares during thunderstorms and flinched and cried when Laura touched her. Yeah, she’s not ready to read too much into this - certainly not into how it pertains to her feelings for Carmilla. But the point is, she stills, and Carmila stops to look at her, eyes wide and bright, and it takes Laura’s breath away and makes her smile and butterflies come alive in her stomach and, okay, her heart beats a little faster too. They’ve slowed down without Laura realizing it, falling into softer, deeper kisses and Carmilla pauses when Laura lips still to simply rest on hers, smiling.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, sweetheart?” One thin eyebrow raises dubiously at the smile and Laura laughs a little, because Carmilla’s a vampire who bit her who currently has a finger up her vagina and teeth at her neck, _again_ , who she might, maybe, definitely be a little bit in love with.

“No. No. Just, uh, keep doing what you were doing.” The vampire shakes her head in exasperation, but there’s a fond tilt to it and then Carmilla kisses her and there’s really not much else she can think about.

This is totally becoming a thing. Her sleeping with Carmilla is totally becoming a thing and she’s not sure how she feels about it all - except the sex part, that part is awesome and maybe other things too.

“You bit me.” She murmurs as the other girl pauses in lifting her shirt off, and it’s not an accusation, just a statement, possibly a question. Carmilla hums back in response, making sure they both are topless before settling back down.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers it into her neck and Laura wants to drawback and concentrate on those words because they are so different from the Carmilla that spoke ten minutes ago - the one that had had one foot out the door, damning her to death as she walked away. She’s really not sure which is the real Carmilla, but there’s an aching openness to the other girl when she’s pressed against Laura’s body, and it makes Laura really, really, _really_ want to believe in her. “I’m so sorry, Laura.” Laura presses their lips together hard, the utter remorse and devastation in Carmilla’s tone breaking her heart. Carmilla’s apologizing for so much more than the bite.

“It’s okay.” She’s said that before. “I mean, you’re a vampire.” She says it without accusation, like it’s simply a part of her everyday life and not another strange apparition of attending Silas University. Laura kisses her again and it’s Carmilla that pulls away this time, staring at her. Carmilla is a beast, maybe a monster if that’s what a beast who is deliberate and motivational is, and that was something she began to understand buried in her coffin, underneath the panic and pain ( _her mouth would open and there would be blood, she would scream and it would consume her and her nails would break and bleed on the splinters of her grave_ ). The biting is something she’s always done, on the willing, the unwilling, the unsure, the ignorant. She doesn’t know how to respond to this - to - it’s not acceptance, but maybe acknowledgement? it’s confusing, but something blooms in her heart at Laura’s words and she hopes to god, it doesn’t wither and die anytime soon ( _Carmilla doesn’t really like graves of any kind, not even metaphorical ones_ ). Laura’s dropping tiny butterfly kisses on the underside of her jaw, hand tangling in her dark hair and Carmilla slips another finger inside her sometime between then and now, their legs tangling together.

Laura can feel the twists in her stomach growing as she arches up and claws at the other girls bare back and she’s comes undone unexpectedly, far too soon, stars bursting beneath her eyelid, just like Carmilla promised, as she presses her forehead against Carmilla's shoulder. Before she can come down from the wave of pleasure, Carmilla’s switching their positions and moving to go down on her, tongue and fingers working her sensitive clit into overdrive, pushing her over the edge once more and she let’s loose a silent scream into their room, back arching up off the mattress, driving herself further on to Carmilla’s tongue. Laura let's loose a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding when it’s over, warm air tickling the edge of Carmilla's ear as the other girl comes back up and she buries her nose in the crook of Carmilla's neck, laying a tentative kiss on a nonexistent pulse point and wrapping her arms around her body. When she feels less like she's going to pass out Laura raises her head to catch Carmilla's eyes who's just smiling that soft smile Laura almost believes is reserved just for her (it is). She leans forward and presses another kiss to her lips ( _has she mentioned how much she like kissing Carmilla? she does, like a lot)_ ,  hands coming up to pull her head closer. This might be her favorite thing in the world right now. Kissing Carmilla is like eating the stars, burning hot and fast in her mouth before cooling off and the feel of it lingers for eons.

“What did I taste like?” Her nails scratch the base of Carmilla's head and the vampire gives a small groan into her mouth.

“MMmmm.” Carmilla kisses her chin and neck, “Processed sugar.”

Laura laughs and shoves the other girl a little, rolling over so she lies pressed to Carmilla’s side, leaning over her, “No. Really.”

Carmilla looks up at her adoringly and reaches up to trace her cheek, “Indescribable. Words cannot express you.” she leans up on her elbows, “with your skin against my lips,” nuzzling Laura’s neck softly (and Laura tilts her head embarrassingly quick to allow Carmilla closer) “and your blood flowing along my tongue - it was a great burst of color in a monochromatic scene.” and then licking a long line, tracing her artery before withdrawing to look Laura straight in the eye.

The temperature in the room seems to rise and there's a fire blooming underneath her fingertips, boiling above Laura's bare skin, but then Carmilla’s ducking her head and blushing and Laura grins - Carmilla’s 18 and 334 and everything in between, but she’s turning red for Laura and that’s a sight to behold.

“You’re a cheeseball.”

“ _No_.” Laura tips her head and bites back a grin at Carmilla’s grumble, before capturing her lips again. They kiss silently for a few minutes and when Laura withdraws her face is still hurting from smiling.

“Total cheeseball.”

Carmilla grunts and ignores her, “Whatever. You like it.”

“I do.” It’s quiet and Laura fingers a curly strand of dark hair, untangling it and laying it flat against Carmilla’s head, feeling the sweat cooling against her temples. “It’s nice.”

“Nice? All that work, all those orgasms and all I get is a nice?” The vampire’s looking at her, trying to resist grinning, but the edges of her lips are tugging upwards and Laura laughs again.

“First of all: you only gave me two orgasms. Second: It was amazing. Wonderful. Like nine out of ten would recommend.”

“Nine?”

Laura groans and simply places a chaste kiss on Carmilla’s lips before going to suck a spot between her collarbone and shoulder that she’s figured out makes the vampire squirm.

"Carm - Carmilla, " Laura pants out roughly, her hands run lower tugging on the other girls pants, "Can I? I want - " But she watches the older girl stiffen and swallow tightly and already knows what the answer will be before Carmilla shakes her head no. Carmilla kisses her in apology and drags a kiss down her abdomen, determined to give Laura everything she refuses to allow herself to receive - multiple times.

After it’s all done and Carmilla’s used her mouth and fingers to wring out orgasm after orgasm, until Laura has lost all coherent thought and indeed feels like she’s seen galaxies - thousands upon thousands of stars lit like tiny fires behind her eyes, they lay together. Carmilla tucks her head underneath Laura’s chin, sucking her fingers one by one into her mouth, swallowing any remnants of Laura, and she can feel the other girl’s breath even out and deepen under her ear.

“I got it wrong, Carm.” Laura mumbles, half asleep and curled around her.

“Hmm?”

“Ten out of ten. Ten out of ten would enthusiastically recommend.”

 **  
** Drawing the comforter up to their chins, Carmilla finally laughs, relaxing into Laura’s arms, and spends the next several hours reciting the words of Kierkegaard and Stein to the beat of Laura’s heartbeat, grinning the entire time. She falls asleep as the sun rises.


	4. the hero and the monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Carmilla both come to a realization - just not at the same time and not about the same thing.

Laura is aware she has a crush ( _a crush? It’s more - definitely more, unfortunately more, but she’s not ready to admit that to herself. ‘crushes on vampires’ LaF said and she’s not wrong - it just doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t quite feel like enough_.) She’s utterly enamored, entranced by Carmilla and her bravery and her history and many other things Laura can’t quite put into words.

Carmilla comes back drunk that night. Her hair is plastered to the side of her face, wet and somber,  yet there’s visible tear tracks on the side of her cheek and Laura reaches for her as soon as she appears in the room, wrapping her arms around her neck and letting Carmilla even out her breath before they pull apart.

“Sorry - I - I’m sorry.” Carmilla stutters out an apology, for what she’s not sure, maybe that Laura’s clothes are wet now too or maybe that - Carmilla would rather not think about it.

“Hey, you’re fine. You’re okay.” There it is again - Laura saying exactly what she wants to hear exactly when Carmilla doesn’t deserve it. _Damn it, damn it, damn it._

Laura leads her to the bed - Carmilla’s bed where the yellow pillow resides nearly permanently now, softly gripping the curve of Carmilla’s elbow. She trembles slightly at the touch, water still cooling her skin, and Laura feels the vibrations travel straight up to there heart as she's reminded of how absolutely human Carmilla can seem. Carmilla manages to crawl into bed and Laura, without reservation, follows after curling herself around the slim girl as if her heat alone would make everything okay (it does, it’s all Carmilla craves now). When her body is done repairing itself, speeding her heartbeat back up to normal, dilating her blood vessels and bringing the flush back to her skin Carmilla wills herself to roll over and face Laura who’s laying there waiting.

“Where’d you go?” They both know she’s not actually asking where Carmilla had been (Carmilla’s eyes glaze over a lot, except when she’s reading - the books keep her focused and here and so does Laura). Laura’s hand comes up to pull back a wet strand of hair, hooking it behind Carmilla’s ear. “You here now?”

After the feel of Laura’s fingers have left her skin, Carmilla lays a small kiss on the tip of her nose, the smell of vodka wafting over them. "Listen, Creampuff, I don't - sleep isn't something I do well all the time. Storms, they make it worse and - and this helps." It’s embarrassing and true. Drinking helps her sleep, but it’s not completely why she did it this time (she won’t sleep for a long time, not after watching Will drag that boy away, arms linked around his neck, as Laura’s face twists into an eerily pleased smile).

"I know - the dark, " Laura pauses and Carmilla's hand shakes softly in hers every time something beats against the window, "I’ve noticed your nightmares are worse when all the lights are off." Carmilla's face scrunches up, eyebrow creasing. "When I didn't leave my laptop on or there weren’t any candles you would - they were worse." Carmilla's head ducks down in shame at the show of vulnerability and she withdraws, backing up against the wall. Laura doesn't say anything, but sits up and walks over to her bed, digging around the headboard until she pulls out what she's looking for. She can feel Carmilla's stare burning into the back of her head and the panic is palpable, she can taste it on her tongue, and Laura wants to tell her _hold on, i’ll be right back, i’m not going anywhere_ , but the words feel too heavy on her tongue - like a promise she’s not sure she’ll keep.

The bed dips when she comes and sits down again, Carmilla still perched against the wall, and she pulls out the object, "I bought it a while back but I wasn't sure you would want it or need it and it might be silly - "

"Sweetheart, _what is it_?" Carmilla's peering at her curiously and Laura scoots closer so that they are shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, half sitting in bed. It's shaped like a cupcake but Carmilla is fairly sure this isn't edible and that could be a good thing because god knows this room doesn't need anymore sugar.

"You just squeeze the frosting," and her hands go up to press on the white rubber covered in plastic sprinkles curling and then their faces are aglow. "There. It’s a nightlight um shaped like a cupcake because - well - y’know..." Laura looks uncomfortable and shrugs her shoulders, eyes dropping for a moment before returning to gazing at Carmilla who's still examining the nightlight.

Carmilla’s beautiful. Objectively, Laura’s known this since the moment she walked through the door, but there’s something about liking someone, knowing them, that heightens the senses and leaves you strangely attracted to the unnoticeable parts of a person’s body. Carmilla’s cheekbones, the curve of her ear, the space between her eyes, the angle of her clavicle buried beneath her skin - Laura could stare all day at them. Her favorite is Carmilla’s smile though. The light plays off the cut of her jaw and the angle of her nose, making her smile soft and expansive as Carmilla stares at the cupcake and then, Laura, with such adoration that Laura can only smile back, lips curling crookedly up in happiness.

Carmilla reaches out and places the cupcake above their heads on her bookshelf, next to a particularly large sandalwood soy candle Laura had brought back a few days ago, and then cups Laura’s face and kisses her, gently. She tastes like iron and alcohol, not all that pleasant, but she’s also here and Laura’s pretty sure the feeling of having her close is something she won’t readily give up long after this ordeal is over. Laura crawls up on her knees, scooting closer so she can lean over Carmilla and deepen the kiss, while leading her down onto the bed - Carmilla doesn’t object, just keeps kissing her like she’s necessary and needed, but, most importantly, Laura feels wanted.

Carmilla moves up on her elbows and lays a kiss on Laura’s cheek before dragging her teeth along Laura's pulse point and sucking on the tiny scabbed over marks just above her carotid artery, drawing a hiccuping gasp from her.

" _Carm_." The whisper _I love you_ is stranded on the tip of her tongue and she can't quite bring herself to say it, not now while everything is so uncertain - even those three words. Carmilla looks at her like she could drown and thinks:

_I'm going to die for her_. And then, a more frightening thought. _I will be buried for her_. (That's what mother will do, she will slit her throat and dump her in a box made of oak and let her drown and drown and drown in the knowledge that she has once again failed and she always will and love does not save, love is not kind, it destroys and traps and scars. Bombs will not grant her freedom from this second internment)

It's terrifying to not realize the depth of your loneliness until you have been given reprieve and it's in looking at Laura’s fingers dancing across her skin that Carmilla knows she is _gone, gone, gone_ and this will not, cannot end well.

“Is it okay?” Laura slows down, hands simply resting on her bare hips, and Carmilla smiles a watery little smile.

“Yeah.”

Small hands slip buttons undone and fingers dance along the bare skin. Carmilla sucks in and tenses at the feeling and swallows the panic rising in her chest. Laura stops again and looks at her and it’s sudden, but she’s calm and content and the panic turns to eagerness and her hips buck up into Laura’s hand, egging her on. She’s _oh so wet_ , just like the first time, and Laura grins despite herself knowing, confirming what she’d been sure of for a while, that Carmilla wants her - wants this, just as much as she does. It’s easy to slip a finger in and she begins to make her way down, laying a kiss on Carmilla’s mouth before dragging wet, sucking kisses along her neck and chest, pushing up Carmilla’s shirt to reach her bare breasts and she pauses a moment, one finger curled inside, to admire the rising marks on Carmilla’s pale skin (in the back of her mind, she’s curious, how vampire physiology allows hickeys to exist - on the other hand, she’s extremely glad it does even if only momentarily).

“Admiring the canvas or the paint, sweetheart?” Laura looks up from the patches of red skin and catches Carmilla’s haughty smile before nuzzling her head into her abdomen and murmuring out a soft noise of happiness. _Both_ , she thinks, _definitely both_. “Okay, then. O-oh” Carmilla lets out an embarrassingly loud moan as Laura slips another finger in and drags kisses down until her lips are resting right above the apex of her legs, tiny black hairs tickling her chin and she looks up one more time, fingers still buried knuckle deep between her slippery folds.

“Still okay?” Carmilla has never seen anything more beautiful than Laura Hollis’s head buried  between her legs, eyes half-lidded, looking up to make sure _she's_ comfortable. It almost makes her cry.

“Yeah.” She squeaks and then, groans shamefully at the noise, cheeks flaring red. Laura laughs out loud and Carmilla covers her face with one hand and uses the other to shove Laura’s head down into her pussy, but she’s still laughing and Carmilla can’t help but shiver as the vibrations touch her clit.  “Oh god. Laura, stop laughing.”

Laura grins and licks a long strip through Carmilla’s slick folds, ending at the top to suck on her clit and she can feel Carmilla hiccup above her, making unintelligible noises, and the hand on her head pulls on her hair a little as she catches the tiny nub between her teeth while thrusting her fingers inside. Carmilla gushes onto Laura’s tongue and she loves it, understanding the implications behind what Carmilla’s letting her do, behind Carmilla letting her inside. She loves it.

Laura’s head pops up suddenly and her eyes widen. She loves it.

Carmilla’s staring at her, eyes half-closed, as she breathes heavily waiting for Laura to continue.

“Everything good, cupcake?”

She loves her.

“Laura?”

_She loves Carmilla_ and how did she miss that earlier? God, Laura may not have a bright future in investigative journalism despite what Professor Cochrane says.

“Yeah- yeah I’m good. I’m great, actually.” Laura rasps out, tongue darting out to lick some of Carmilla off her lips. Camilla, for her part, watches in rapture.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Totally.”  She lays a small kiss on the inside of Carmilla’s thigh, sucking hard until she sees a hickey bloom on her skin - only to watch it fade a moment later.  “One day, I’m going to make one of those stay longer.”

Carmilla laughs low and soft at the statement, letting her head fall back onto the bed. “Well, I certainly won’t object to you trying.”

“I hope I get to try over.” Laura lays a kiss on the edge of her clit, fingers moving again, “and over.” Carmilla groans and her hips thrust shakily, uncontrollably into Laura’s mouth, “and over.”

“ _Laura_.”

She laughs one more time at the heedy, desperate tone to Carmilla’s voice before fully latching onto Carmilla’s clit again and continuing to move her fingers back and forth into Carmilla. It’s all fairly new to her and Laura’s only copying what Carmilla has done to her in nights past, but it seems to be working, judging by the strangled moans working their way from between Carmilla’s lips and the way the hands buried in her hair tighten and pull when she hits a particular spot. There’s a jesus fuck, laura and oh god, oh god, fucking hell as Carmilla careens over the edge, heat rushing into her belly and muscles clenching and tightening around Laura’s fingers. Her spine bends and spasms as she comes on Laura’s tongue, gasping for air. It’s been so long since she’s orgasmed Carmilla has to take a moment to stare blankly at the ceiling, shuddering as Laura brushes against her oversensitive clit while lapping up the wetness still surrounding her tender folds. She swallows and Laura’s suddenly leaning over, in her face, grinning that stupid little confident smile.

“Oh god.” Carmilla mutters, rolling her eyes, just imagining the other girl’s head already inflating.

“You know, as flattering as that is, you can just call me Laura.”

“Cupcake, _really_?”

Her withering tone is just enough to send Laura into a contented fit of giggles.  She calms down after a while and settles back down into Carmilla’s chest, palm lying flat over the skin where a heartbeat might be - if she listens close enough.

“Are you going to stay?” Laura whispers into her clavicle.

“Stay?”

“Mmm-hmmm. After we win.”  

“I mean - I guess.” She gives a frustrated huff before sighing sadly, “If you’ll have me, sweetheart.” Laura won’t - not once she figures out what Carmilla’s done, but, for now, it’s worth saying the lie to watch the smile spread out across Laura’s lips.

Laura kisses her then, quickly and enthusiastically and so unimaginably soft, that it takes a moment, but Carmilla’s hands eventually curl into her hair and she returns it with equal fervor. This is good Laura thinks and she feels like the hero in some story, about to defeat the big bad, saving the day and getting the girl. Her heart leaps in her chest and Carmilla's lips rest on the skin above it.

**  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come bother me on tumblr!: fuscience.tumblr.com


	5. i was not magnificent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not as long as the others, but we're winding down. this takes place around ep. 34 and all that's left after this is an epilogue for 36 which is not complete so it might not be up until after spring break.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts _so much_. She scrubs at her hands, her arms, everywhere Carmilla had touched her mere hours ago, not even a day after betraying them to Dean. Rubs against it until it is red and bleeding, the skin peels up and she wants to cry, but Perry's in the next room waiting for her to come out so that they can both wait for Carmilla's return. It hurts, it hurts, _it hurts_ and she hates how she still wouldn't take anything  back - not a minute, not a moment, not even the hair in the drain, or all the food lost to Carmilla's undead stomach or the immediate life threatening danger they are now suddenly under without her on their side. She can't bring herself to regret any of the good or the bad and Carmilla's there in the back of her mind smiling and smiling and smiling like she's already a ghost haunting the peripheries of her brain.

She comes back not five minutes after Perry leaves to sew a stakeholder - it’s like an ammunition chest strap but for stakes instead of bullets and Perry insists on building and scraping together anything they have to fight with - and Laura wants to throw up when she catches Carmilla’s reflection in the mirror (she really wishes the old mythology of vampire’s not having reflections was true, she really doesn’t want to see her face anywhere she doesn’t have to).

“What are you doing here?” _Why’d you come back?_ Carmilla just shrugs and shakes her head. “You leave something behind?”

At that, Carmilla raises her eyes and looks at her pointedly _you’re it. I left you. I came back for you._ the message couldn’t be more muddled if they tried. before shrugging her shoulders again. Laura sees red. Laura sees dead friends, Perry’s tears, S.J.’s grave, Kirsch’s terrified face and she’s so enraged, so furious - _how dare she?_ People are dead. People are going to die and she’s going to _walk away_. (Laura ignores the fact that she knew what Carmilla had done, what she was capable of - she’s not ready to admit her own misjudgement) _She lied_. and finally, _how could I be so stupid?_ Her feet are carrying her across the room and she’s shoving Carmilla against the dresser before she can even truly figure out what she's dong.

“You can walk away from this! You get to - “ She chokes and continues to push, “You get to walk away! You’re so goddamn good at that, right? It’s such an easy decision to leave or to stay? Kill this person or that person? You’ve done it for so long, why should this be any different?” Laura’s words are aimed to hurt, to burn and they do - but it’s a double edged sword. ( _She wasn’t special. This wasn’t special. That’s what it all means. Laura wants them to carve **I wasn’t enough** into her gravestone._ )

On the final hit, Carmilla shoves back, grabbing her wrists and slams her mouth against Laura’s and Laura kisses her back because _what else is she supposed to do?_ Laura cries into her mouth as Carmilla’s grip rubs against a part of her arm she’d made tender trying to clean herself earlier  and Carmilla releases her, alarmed at the cry of pain. She swallows and stares down at the state of Laura’s skin, and, even though she can’t breathe, her chest kind of stutters like the air got caught in her throat. Gently, she turns Laura’s hands palm up and traces the tiny wounds on them with her thumbs, eyes tracing the path of redness up her skin, before letting go to cup Laura’s face gently, but Laura doesn’t let her - breaking the caress because _she’s not allowed to, doesn’t have permission to_ _be kind and loving and touch her like this is more than a blip on Carmilla’s infinitely large radar._ Laura gets stuck on the last button of Carmilla’s shirt and yanks until it pops off, stopping for a moment to watch it fly off into a corner of the room. Carmilla’s leaning back against the dresser, gulping in big breaths of air, as Laura refocuses and pulls back one cup of her bra to latch her lips onto a bare nipple. Carmilla tries to stop herself from making any noise, scared of spooking the girl currently licking her way down her body, but she moans at every one of Laura’s touches - heart tight in her chest because these touches aren’t nice or loving or comforting. They’re not Laura. She sees patches of red bloom on her skin from Laura's ministrations and thinks that they match a little more now than Carmilla ever wanted. (Carmilla had Ell, who broke her heart and betrayed her when she was eighteen and centuries old, and now Laura had her.)

The shorts are laughable, already half torn like most of Carmilla’s wardrobe, and Laura doesn’t care enough to do anything more than shove them down as far as she can over the thin hips of her ( _roommate? girlfriend? lover?_ ) vampire, until she can shove her hand between her legs and find a slickness gathering between her fingers. They’re not taking their time, this is anger and remorse and regret - it’s something broken that neither really knows why or how to fix it. She drags her index finger along the inside of Carmilla’s folds until she can find her clit and press down with her thumb, rubbing for but a moment before she shoves two fingers in without warning and Carmilla throws her head back, banging hard against the solid wood, letting loose a guttural sound, but Laura doesn’t stay there long dragging her fingers out, leaving a line of wetness on the inside of Carmilla’s thighs.

Grabbing the remains of Carmilla’s shirt Laura drags them backwards towards the bed until they fall back on top of the comforter, bouncing slightly, foreheads knocking for a moment. Habit has Laura leaning up to kiss Carmilla as they fall onto the sheets, but she freezes, inches from Carmilla’s lips and moves to her neck instead, sucking and biting until the skin is raw and red and probably painful. She doesn’t catch how Carmilla’s eyes darken, how her face falls and she stops breathing for a moment when Laura dodges her lips. Her fingers are too busy finding their way back into Carmilla with practiced ease and it only takes a few short minutes of Laura curling and pushing against Carmilla’s walls and rubbing her thumb along the swollen line of her clit before she can feel the familiar clench and spasm of Carmilla’s orgasm rolls it’s way through her body like a riptide dragging her under. There’s a broken groan from Carmilla when she loses it on Laura’s fingers and she clamps a hand over her mouth, the other grasping for any part of Laura she can reach. She feels eighteen and sad and ‘monster’ they had said, she had sad, over and over and Carmilla knows it’s true, but she’s never wanted to defy what she was, what she is more than in this moment with Laura crying into the aftershocks of them being together. But it’s all over far too fast and it feels, they both know, very similar to the first time they had sex, it feels an awful lot like a beginning and a whole hell of a lot like an end (Laura’s not sure which hurts more). When the muscles stop moving, Laura withdraws and licks her fingers, sticking them in her mouth and making sure that every last drop of Carmilla is off and tasted. It’s the last time and Laura wants it to stay on her tongue forever. Both thoughts make her want to simultaneously sob and vomit.

Carmilla’s chest moves up and down, halting, tired breaths that Laura can feel through her body as she lays her head between her breasts. For a second, she thinks Carmilla might try and get her off too, hands moving to her waist, and Laura’s prepared to fight her on it, but she just curls them into Laura’s skin, thumbs dipping into the curve of her hips in a hold that won’t keep her there - not if Laura really wanted to go. It’s still so gentle and it breaks Laura in a way she never imagined possible.

“I hate you. I hate you.” Laura whispers into the space between them, finally letting her tears leak out slowly, and Carmilla immediately raises her body up and looks her straight in the eye.

“No you don’t.” She mutters, a little something like fear and a lot of something like hope in her voice. Then she’s kissing her, and Laura can taste herself and Carmilla mixing in her mouth and it tastes like home.

“No I don’t.” Laura agrees, ignoring how Carmilla’s entire body relaxes against hers,  and a sob rips through her again, ( _Kirsch, LaFontaine. Betty. Sarah Jane. Natalie. There aren’t enough apologies in the world to make up for how she feels about Carmilla despite her involvement in everything._ ) “Why would you do that? Why are you doing this? Why?”

Carmilla doesn’t answer ( _Safe. Safe. Keep you safe and let the world burn. It’s not an answer that would change anything so she stays quiet)_. Laura closes her eyes, flinging an arm over her face, and feels her body shift and the bed dip as Carmilla rolls out from beneath her. When she opens her eyes the other girl is gone. Carmilla must go thirty miles before the sound of Laura’s cries fade even a little from her ears. It makes the freezing water bearable as she dives down into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come chat me up on tumblr: fuscience.tumblr.com


	6. i am not a graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camilla comes back and they both have to deal with what that will mean. But not right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post-ep 36 little epilogue; the one time they didn't sleep together

She wakes up and the first thing she smells is Laura and her and sex and knows she must be back in the dorm room. It’s better than the other option as her last memory is lying at the bottom of a dark pit, staring as the light engulfed her and the broken body of her mother. She can move and her bones no longer creak - they ache though, as if they’d been popped and twisted back into place and they probably have been. Carmilla’s head is foggy, and it hurts to open her eyes, the lights twisting bruising stars in her vision.

Carmilla wakes up and Laura wraps her arms around her and this must be what redemption feels like, as foreign as happiness and hope and love to her centuries old body. Laura’s hands clench her shoulders, digging into the tattered sleeves of her shirt and the grip is hard and Carmilla feels the desperation of it in her bones. She hopes this means amends have been made, but she honestly expects nothing just ( _safe, safe, she’s alive and Carmilla could cry at the knowledge because she’s never won before, has only been allowed hollow victories tainted with the kiss of her mother and the blood of every girl she’s ever lured_.)

She stands and Laura kisses her and she kisses Laura and everyone else evacuates the room as fast as they tend to enter it (without knocking). Carmilla doesn’t need to breathe, but she also can’t - not when Laura has her lips on her skin, not when she can feel body heat and warmth that seeps into the marrow of her bones. It’s like drowning, but the good kind. Laura’s hands stay steady on her arms and Carmilla slowly finds the bravery to curl a hand into her brown hair, gently pulling her closer and Laura enthusiastically falls forward and it feels ( _a lot like a beginning and a lot like an ending_ ) like gleaming ballrooms, and warm hugs from rose scented arms and stables of horses, the leather of her father’s pants. All things she only vaguely remembers, like a whisper fading out over time and space, but she knows they are home.

When, Laura pulls away she has a sad, tiny half-smile that Carmilla is half-tempted to try and kiss away, but she doesn’t want to push her limits not when she finally has Laura here.

“So, you’re a giant black cat?” She asks, laughing awkwardly, all nineteen year old human girl and in-love. Carmilla will forgive her Laura thinks, if she’s not exactly sure what the proper decorum is, what the appropriate conversational topics are when someone dies for you, when someone lives for you and then, they’re both laughing and Carmilla holds up an arm, half-shielding her face, but Laura can still make out the curve of her lips and the relief in her face. Laura wants to kiss her again, but so much has happened that Laura’s not sure it would be welcome, not when the adrenaline has faded and she’s faced with all that’s happened in the past four months.

Their fingers tangle together, hands brushing clumsily before they find the right curves to fit into, and Carmilla, weak and exhausted, has to sit back down on the bed, tugging Laura with her. “C’mere, sweetheart.” She murmurs, reveling in the feel of Laura curling close on her lap, head resting on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Laura asks, not really knowing what else. She can feel how labored Carmilla’s breathing has become and the way her muscles spasm and tense with the effort of even sitting up. “Nevermind.” She shakes her head, “Stupid question, of course, you’re exhausted.” Her head comes up from the crook of Carmilla’s neck and she brushes their noses close, watching how Carmilla’s eyes droop a little bit, struggling to stay open. “Lay down.” A hand pushes Carmilla back on to Laura’s bed and though Carmilla is loathe to sleep right now, too afraid that she will wake up back into the reality she knew for so long, she can’t resist the even tone of Laura’ voice, or the curl of covers far too familiar.

“Laura, I -” She starts, voice sleepy and muffled by the covers, fingers resting against the pulse point on Laura’s wrist, but the other girl shushes her.

“You _died_. You left.” Laura’s voice cracks, still a little heartbroken at the thought of never seeing her again.

Carmilla lets loose a tired laugh, eyebrows curling in bemusement, “You told me to leave, cupcake.”

“Yeah, yeah, but - “ And Laura doesn’t know what to say to that because she meant what she said, that Carmilla would be the one to make it out of this. If anyone was going to live through the Dean, the vampire cult, the murders it was going to be Carmilla and Laura had believed that in her bones. So, when she thought Carmilla hadn’t made it, had died it kind of threw her off ( _she couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep - cookies tasted like ash, all her dreams involved an absence of black_ ). It just wasn't what she'd meant. Not at all.

“And I always do what you say, right?” Carmilla tips her head and then wriggles closer, wrapping her other hand round Laura’s head to just hold her close. Laura laughs a little at the tease - they both know exactly how well Carmilla listens - before holding onto her tighter in return. She breathes in Carmilla - underneath the stink of death and soot, there she is, unmistakably her.

“No you don’t.” She murmurs into her neck, lips brushing skin, “You never do what I ask and I’m so glad right now.” She feels a light kiss along the top of her head and the weight  of Carmilla’s chin resting there. Laura thinks maybe Carmilla’s breathing her in, too. They have so much to talk about, so much to work through, but when Carmilla ducks her head and starts dusting kisses on the curve of Laura cheeks, the edge of her brow, making her way down, Laura simply concentrates on keeping their hands firmly together, trying to convey ‘ _i’m not letting go, never again_ ’ and when, Carmilla finally reaches her lips well -

Carmilla kisses her and she kisses back and it's perfect and necessary all the need  because they're together and alive and it doesn't matter that Carmilla has morning breath like _whoa_ or that Laura's eyes are red-rimmed and her nose is still runny because there's warmth and skin and Carmilla and Laura and:

_I love you, i love you, i love you_

__

_please stay._

__


End file.
